


Zone of Truth

by forgotten_constellation



Category: Life Is Strange 2 (Video Game)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Light Angst, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Omega/Omega, Recreational Drug Use
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-11
Updated: 2020-07-11
Packaged: 2021-03-04 18:47:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,669
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25201186
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/forgotten_constellation/pseuds/forgotten_constellation
Summary: And then Finn is surging up to kiss him, lips teeth and tongue, and Sean feels like he might be tasting colors and hearing the unnameable emotion curling in his chest, and he’s reminded that the universe is not very old and life won’t be possible for long and he feels lucky to be sharing this brief window of existence before entropy dies and takes their memory with it.
Relationships: Sean Diaz/Finn
Comments: 3
Kudos: 65





	Zone of Truth

“You stink,” Daniel tells him, face twisting in disgust. 

Sean’s stomach drops.

It’s been so long since he heard these words, that tone of voice, that he trips over himself in his surprise. Finn catches him, hands warm on his lower back and hip, because he’s just like that--always watching, in his own way, and definitely always touching. “We all stink, little man,” Finn calls out, much to the mixed amusement and frustration of the farm pack. They’re walking back from Big Joe’s truck, another long day of work on the farm completed, sore and achy and sunburnt in places.

“No, he’s right. I’m going into heat soon. Woo-hoo.” Sean says, suddenly so frustrated with the literal universe that his shyness is obliterated.

As if on cue, the glands just under his chin ache, and Sean can feel this infuriating pressure behind his eyes. Daniel’s always been so attuned to these things. 

Daniel’s regret is near immediate. “Oh. Sorry, Sean.” 

Sean reaches out and digs his knuckles into Daniel’s thick hair, grinding them in the noogie he’s earned twice over by being a little brat. Daniel swats at him, but doesn’t fight him as he normally would--instinct. As a little Alpha, Daniel has always been protective of him even in ways their beta _papito_ was not. At least the kid will cut him some slack. 

Cassidy makes a sympathetic cooing noise. “Bad timing?” 

Sean pinches the bridge of his nose. “Haven’t had one since before Seattle.” 

In a way, it’s a little promising. He’s been on his guard and then some, trying to take care of Daniel. Merrill's little farm, hellish as it is, has given him a place to settle, if only for a moment. It’s also an indication that they need to keep going, and soon, but for the moment Sean allows himself to appreciate it. Merrill will absolutely use this as an excuse to short him next payday, but he also won’t force Sean’s hand. He’ll be given complimentary food and supplies, a place away from the main camp to ride it out. He’d only accepted the job because of those amenities, and now he’s grateful that he wasn’t being too careful.

His words have brought on a rare moment of silence for the group. Thankfully and predictably, Penny breaks it by saying, “Well damn, bitch. Better get you a blanket and pick a spot.” 

Sean laughs, stares up at the sky. “I guess I better.” 

* * *

  
  


“Light duty until the heat comes, Omega,” Big Joe says, carrying down Merrill's judgement as always. “Pick up the extra tent and supplies on your way out and stay out of main camp.”

A part of Sean rankles at being called by his title like that. With the rest of the crew, there’s a hint of affection in it, even coming from Hannah, but Big Joe always makes him feel smaller than he is. Daniel, probably sensing his rising discomfort, shoots the beta a dirty look as he sits down in the chair. Then, he scoots his chair over, the creak of it loud, and rests his head on Sean’s shoulder, a comfortingly firm presence at his side. 

“Thanks, _enano_.” He hums.

“Don’t call me that,” Daniel huffs, staying right where he is as he begins trimming. He’s getting scarily efficient at that. This isn’t the life Sean would have wanted for him. 

“You ever spent a heat with anyone, Sean?” Hannah asks. 

Cassidy swats at her arm, which earns her a growling, “What?” 

Cassidy and Hannah are two sides of the same Alpha coin--Cassidy kind yet firm, Hannah moody and blunt, and though they both can be a bit much, Sean never feels threatened by them. 

“It’s okay. My best fried Lyla and I used to help each other out during our heats, but. That doesn't really count, right?” 

Penny chuckles at him, shakes his head. “Who raised you, man?” 

Jacob gives him a bewildered look. “I thought you need an Alpha for it to work right.” 

Penny says, “Man, don’t be spouting none of that knothead bullshit.” 

Sean flushes. He kinda believed it too. It never really felt like enough with Lyla, even though it took the edge off.

* * *

  
  


Work is the worst. Aside from his less intense assignment, Big Joe’s not gonna be gentle with him just because he’s in pre-heat. Daniel’s scolded for pausing to help him more than once, and eventually resorts to using his power. 

Bending over has his back aching in odd places, and his joints protest most jerky movements. His fingers have long since gained the muscle memory to do the work--flush, pluck, bind, store. Flush, pluck, bind, store. But sometimes his basket feels like it weighs a ton, or the sun is so annoyingly bright that it makes him angry, or someone touches him in passing and this wave of need and loneliness rolls through him. Merrill is gonna give him so much shit and then ask him to be grateful for it.

The back-and-forth is bound to bite him in the ass later, but he’s forced to give Daniel a wordless go-ahead to assist with his power. So if the watering can tilts forward a bit more than it should, or bundling plants goes fast, or his basket floats harmlessly to the ground instead of tumbling with its contents, it’s just a trick of the heat exhausted worker's mind. Sean reminds himself to give Daniel some kind of reward for his help, suddenly guilty for being so frustrated with him in the first place. 

The pack is all kind to him in their own ways, but Finn especially is a big help, as he always is, swanning over him to check in. Does he need water? Does he want a hug? If he wants a quick break, Finn’s happy to take over. They’re all assigned sections, but Big Joe’s been known to look the other way for overlap as long as work gets done, so it works out. 

“You look so tired, sweetheart,” Finn tuts, knuckles trailing up the back of Sean’s neck. 

He’s already warm, but the heat that rolls up his spine at that feels bone deep and almost delicious. He’s tempted to ask if Finn will do it again, but he’s already behind, so he ducks his head. Finn’s hand follows, though, a warm calloused weight on his skin, and he absolutely does not contain the little whimper the sensation elicits. Finn chuckles. “Aw, hun. You’re suffering.” 

Sean fusses, “I’m fine.” 

“Whatever you say,” He replies. 

He walks away, taking his infuriatingly enticing scent with him. 

* * *

  
  


“When was your last heat, if you don’t mind me asking?” Sean says, over a late night dinner.

Finn pauses, brows raising. Then he hums, head tilting back and forth in thought. “Had to be like a year ago. In a fucking Motel 8, of all places.” 

Hannah laughs, baring her unnaturally visible canines. “You were so sweet for me.” 

“Fuck you,” he says, absolutely no heat in the words. 

Hannah meets him with a, “I sure did,” and his eyes crinkle into a smile of mirth as he chews his food. Finn's the kind of person who smiles with his entire being.

Ingrid taps Sean on the shoulder. As he turns to face her, she’s offering him three neatly rolled blunts, eyes kind. “A gift from me and Anders. It will help. Have you ever done it?” 

Sean smiles, chest hurting. He misses Lyla so much. “Yeah. Thanks, Ingrid.” 

He’s tempted to just light one up now, but the relief will only be temporary, and not as intense as it will be when he can barely move for the desire running through his body. Finn sways close, rests his hand on Sean’s thigh, not too high but definitely not chastely low, either. “Make yourself a playlist and use my speaker when it comes, honey.” 

He’s offering Sean his phone, which Sean accepts after some hesitation. He’s avoided most tech out of an honest desire to escape the temptation of reaching out to people in his life, but the possible comfort of music is too much to overcome. Finn’s named the empty playlist Cutie Heat, which Sean shoves him for, biting the inside of his cheek to hide his smile. Finn rests his chin on Sean’s shoulder as he begins to populate it, humming in appreciation every now and then, unabashed in his curiosity.

When Sean’s done, he hands the phone back. “I’ll come get you when I need y--um, when I need it.” 

Finn cups his chin. “Sure thing, Sean.” 

Finn doesn’t really say his name that often. Sean worries that his scent might be broadcasting the way this makes him feel. 

* * *

  
  


“Do you like DnD?” Cassidy asks him, on the ride out to the farm. 

Sean’s head is so fuzzy that it takes him a moment for his language comprehension to crest the giant hill it’s been faced with. D, N, D. A dungeon, a dragon.

“I played a couple times but it didn’t go well.” 

Daniel giggles beside him. “Sean’s character had a truth spell cast on him and he had to confess that he stole the heart of the barkeep’s daughter.” 

Cassidy’s pretty face brightens into a laugh. “Oooh, Sean. What a maverick.” 

“I was playing a bard. You know, roll to seduce and all that. I got beat up.” Sean mumbles.

“My barbarian saved the whole village, though,” Daniel reports, preening at Cassidy’s amused congratulations. 

Lyla had been such a bullshit DM. They’d had no idea what they were doing, any of them. If he’d had more time, he would have seduced the barkeep’s daughter with a lot more finesse. Now he’s stuck in a dungeon of his own, part-time mom to a little brother with some pretty powerful magic. Sean reaches out and hugs Daniel. He can see the way he frowns in pouty protest, but he wraps his little arms around Sean’s waist, holding him up. His head feels so heavy.

* * *

Sean picks a spot for his tent. His thighs ache from the walk there and back. 

“Will you watch Daniel?” He asks the group. 

He’s so grateful for their quick compliance that he starts crying. It’s by far one of the most embarrassing things that’s happened to him around them, but they’re all brusquely kind in their own way, patting his back and pinching his cheeks and calling him names. 

“I’ll let Big Joe and Merril know in the morning.” Hannah says. “Stay the fuck in, kid.” 

Muscle memory takes him back to where his tent with Daniel usually is by the time the night is out, but then he remembers that he’d moved their tent closer to Penny’s tent, because Penny’s a weirdo but he’ll also make sure that Daniel’s entertained and happy if he struggles to sleep without Sean there to tell him bedtime stories. He’ll love the UFO tales, if nothing else. Sean’s reminded, abruptly, of the X-files theme, and laughs freely into the air. 

“You’re really feelin’ it, huh?” Finn asks, materializing behind him. He always walks so quietly. 

Sean doesn’t jump. He leans back into Finn, purring contentedly when Finn catches him. His wiry looks hide just how strong he really is. You kind of have to be strong, to live a life in motion like they all do.

“I brought my phone and bluetooth speaker. And, hear me out here, but I also have a few tabs of acid left, if you wanna try that. That’ll have you feeling so far and away you won’t be experiencing much but nirvana. Fucking namaste, dude.” Finn mumbles into his ear. 

“I’ve never done LCD.” 

Finn lets out a high pitched giggle of surprised. “Yeah, most people don’t do TV screens, babe.” 

Sean frowns. “Fuck.” Language is hard. 

Finn gently release him, and then puts his hands on his shoulders to turn him around. “I really want to help you, Sean.” 

Sean says, “You have been.” 

He leans forward, breathes Finn in. He has such a faint scent, and it’s not sweet like most other Omegas he’s met--there’s an earthiness to it that Sean likes. He presses his face into Finn’s collarbone, suddenly unable to deal with the way his gums itch at his scent.

“I mean, in uh, other ways.” Finn murmurs, tilting his neck up. “I could help you with your heat. If you’re okay with that.” 

“I really like you,” Sean admits into his skin. 

Finn’s fingers delve into his thick hair, nails scoring comfortingly along his scalp. “Is that a yes?” 

“Oh my god, yes.” Sean says. 

* * *

  
  


He’ll never forget the soft croon of Janelle Monáe’s voice singing _I like that_ , as Finn works his shorts off with patience. He’s too far gone to feel embarrassed for the way his underwear clings to his wet skin, and when his bottom half his bared, his legs fall open for Finn’s hungry gaze. Finn had lit the blunt a little bit before the turned on the lamp and gotten comfortable, and he leans back on the many pillows (donated by the group) beneath him before taking a long drag. He’s a little shaky, a little too enthusiastic, and the smoke leaves him in a cough. Weed cough is the worst. It’s so tender, so insistent. Finn laughs at him, fingers trailing up at where slick has gathered on the curve of his cheeks. Sean tilts his hips up, and Finn gives him one finger, two, and it’s amazing but definitely not enough, and he stupidly covers his urge to beg by taking another shaky drag and coughing yet again. 

Finn laughs, and plucks the blunt out of his hands, propping it up in his mouth. “Take your shirt off for me, honey.” 

The command settles hazily into his heat addled mind, so he just hums out an affirmative and takes his shirt off, wanting nothing more than to be bare beneath those clear blue eyes.

“You’re so pretty,” Finn coos, passing the blunt back to him.

Maybe it's the weed that has him feeling so pleasantly wobbly.

“Shut up,” Sean whines. 

Finn’s fingers curl upwards, abrupt and sure, and just like that Sean is coming in quick spurts across his belly, throwing his arm over his stinging eyes. It’s not enough.

“Oh, baby, you’re fine, hey,” Finn babbles, free hand running over his belly, soothing him and spreading his release into his sweaty skin. 

Sean catches him popping his fingers into his mouth the moment he chances a glance up, and wants to just kind of melt. 

They pass the first blunt between them that way, until it’s gone and Finn’s made him come on his fingers too many times to count, slowly unraveling the tension from his body until he loses his grip on consciousness.

* * *

  
  


In the morning, Finn all but bullies him into some granola and water. When he complies, Finn rolls him onto his stomach and presses his front against Sean’s back, teeth nibbling at his scent glands. It’d take a lot for them to bond, as omegas, but the possibility is there, and the thrill of it is so intense each time Finn’s blunt little teeth dig into his flesh that Sean feel’s like he’s panting for it.

“Please fuck me,” he begs, voice thin.

“Okay, sweetheart.” 

And this is the first time Finn is inside him, and it’s so right, the way Finn kisses down his spine and spreads his thighs with strong hands, opening him enough for Sean to press the head of his cock inside, slowly. He makes Sean feel every inch of it as he moves in, hands tilting his hips up just enough, and then when they’re completely joined, he wraps his arms around Sean’s chest to hold him up, mouth pressed into Sean’s ear. He fucks him slow--not the deep, hard movements that his body’s craving, but there’s something so good about this too, Finn murmuring sweetness into his ear.

And Sean wants it deeper, wants it so much, but this is just enough to have one orgasm blending into the next. He’s a sweaty, damp, crying mess, biting restlessly at Sean’s knuckles when he’s offered one tattooed hand. 

“I’m gonna tire you out, sweetheart,” Finn promises him. 

He bites at one of Sean’s swollen scent glands. Sean muffles his cry by sucking Finn’s fingers into his mouth. 

* * *

  
  


There’s a lull in the worst of it, and Sean wheedles his way into the nearby lake, feeling like there’s a fine layer of grime on his body. There’s no way he’s brave enough to request a trip back to the main camp for the showers--he’s not even sure if he’s allowed, right now--and the idea of having Finn to himself in one of his favorite spots is weirdly exciting. 

“Thank you for helping me, Finn.” He says, as they slide into the cool water.

“It’s literally my pleasure, honey.” Finn says. He swims over, tucks some of Sean’s shaggy hair behind his ear. “I like you, too. For the record.” 

* * *

He’s hesitant, but curiosity kills fear, so Finn gives him a half tab before his next intense heat wave. 

“I’ll be good, I’ve done this enough,” Finn explains, waggling his brows as he presents the full tab of acid on his tongue.

It takes a while to settle in. They cuddle and explore each other. Finn’s been a patient teacher, and Sean’s ridiculously proud of himself for making Finn come, his hand tight on Finn’s cock as he presses kisses onto his freckled shoulder. He licks his hand clean, and then they kiss, sharing his taste. Finn rolls him onto his back, and Sean catches himself on the hand-knit blanket below, and is deeply and intensely pleased with the texture. 

“Wow,” he says, fascinated.

Finn laughs. “Yeah, wow.” 

“Can we have more music?” 

The Cutie Heat playlist is turned back on, and it’s like second nature now to wrap his arms around Finn’s shoulder in an embrace. 

“You need it?” Finn asks. 

He nods, near frantic with it. He’s so wet he’d be embarrassed if he were in his right mind, but Finn seems to love it. He’s expecting to get fucked, but Finn coaxes him onto his knees, and then he’s spreading Sean’s cheeks and blowing a teasing burst of cool over his rim before licking him, slow and firm, from the seam of his balls to his entrance. Sean loses balance on his hands, falling face first, and Finn laughs. “You present so pretty for me. You wanna be good for me?” 

“Yes, yeah, sure.” 

He’s told to be still. He thinks, sure, fine, he can do that, but then Finn is licking and nipping at him again and Sean feels like maybe he can taste the color blue. Time stretches on, energy thrumming just under his skin, Finn’s tongue pressing into him, heat delicious and a little naughty and everything he’s never thought he’d want to experience. Finn gives him a finger, quests searchingly and firmly for his prostate, and when he finds it he presses down hard, an almost painful sting of pleasure sending him crying into an orgasm that feels like it lasts forever. 

Finn soothes him with a hand on his belly, his other hand stroking Sean’s cock despite his weak protests that it’s just shy of painful, but it’s so good. When he comes down from the spiral of his release, Finn says, “I want you to ride me.” and that sounds like the best idea in the world. 

It takes some fawn legs maneuvering, but then Sean’s crawling into Finn’s lap. Finn catches him by the chin, and they press their lips together, a brief moment of chaste affection. And then Finn is surging up to kiss him, lips teeth and tongue, and Sean feels like he might be tasting colors and hearing the unnameable emotion curling in his chest, and he’s reminded that the universe is not very old and life won’t be possible for long and he feels lucky to be sharing this brief window of existence before entropy dies and takes their memory with it.

Finn lines himself up, and Sean is sliding along his length with a contented sigh. He doesn’t fucking know what he’s doing. But he does what makes him feel right, rolling his hips to chase the satisfaction that being full brings, and he rises up on protesting knees to make it better, and Finn is staring up at him like he’s the only other person in existence. Over the speaker, Cuco sings, _I’ve been tripping off the tabs in my room. I don’t know why, baby, but I’m feeling blue,_ and he’s unable to tell if he’s crying or if Finn is. 

* * *

  
  


He makes some of the most gorgeous art he’s ever created half naked and tripping literal balls--sketches Finn in all kinds of languid poses (he’s an amazing model), draws what he imagines the eldritch old ones must look like. He sketches the people in his life up until this point--even draws his mother, as he remembers her, blond and beautiful, dangly earrings and shoulder length blonde hair. He feels like he loves everything and nothing. His music is making his body go crazy. Finn is sitting so close and Sean kind of wants to hug him until they blend into each other.

* * *

His heat breaks late one night. There’s no traceable moment--he slides back into lucidity almost against his consent, and when Finn gives him a tired little smile, breezy beautiful, he can’t help but blush into his pillows. Finn laughs, hugs him. “Feeling okay, sweetie?” 

“Yeah. Thank you.” He breathes out. 

“Anytime.” 

To his horror, Sean can feel himself tearing up. “I’m really gonna miss you and everyone else when we have to go.” 

Finn gives him a little smile. “Small world, sweetheart. You’ll see.”

They kiss. Finn cups his cheek, thumb rubbing along his cheekbone. It’s enough.


End file.
